A Phoenix Of Ash
by FFD-FlightFromDeath
Summary: After a final battle with Voldemort, Harry is thrown into his eleven year old self with his older self's memories. This time around he won t be the Savior of the light, he will be himself. He was betrayed in his previous life by those he trusted but this time, Harry will get payback. DarkHarry! PowerfulHarry!
1. The End Of A Savior

A Phoenix Of Ash.

By FlightFromDeath.

Disclaimer; Obviously, I don`t own the Harry Potter series or any of it`s characters because I`m not filthy rich and I`m not at my villa in spain, sunbathing on my private beach, I`m in my room, writing this story on a crappy Laptop that`s so slow, I may as well write out the story on paper dozens of times and pass them to everyone I see until everyone has read it or used as toilet paper (depending on whether they like it or not)

A/N; Ok, I don`t know the name of the darker spells or the battle spells so I`ll have to ask you to forgive me if I get them wrong. Enjoy.

Chapter One, The End Of A Saviour.

During his Seventeen years of life, Harry Potter had bore witness to his fair share of silences, be they awkward, unsettling or even just simple peaceful ones, but the silence that surrounded him now, that clung to everything in it`s path like a shadow, was of a whole different kind; It was both complete and empty at the same time and it drew attention by it`s sheer beauty and grace, Harry had never heard anything like it before in his life. The very air around him was completely and utterly devoid of sound, as if someone had cast a silencing spell across the very fabric of all existing things in it`s path, but the air, it let out a constant thrum of a completely different type of silence, one that hummed over his skin and melted into his bones, relieving his stiff shoulders and pin-straight back.

This new silence, it promised many things; death, pain, sadness, triumph, satisfaction but mostly, mostly, it promised an end, whether it be one that brings fortune, or one that brings despair. But any end would do just fine, for him, anyway.

Harry Potter stood facing the man who had helped ruin his life, his hand curled so tightly around his wand that his knuckles had bled bone white.

Lord Voldemort stared back at the boy who`s mere existence threatened everything he had worked towards in his life, his Inner Circle of Death Eaters standing loyally behind him.

They both stood like that for a few minutes, watching each other, surrounded by the desolate ruins that once was the majestic and vibrant castle that was; Hogwarts. There was debris and rubble scattered in erratic patterns across the dead and burnt ground, but no one paid them any mind. The sky was blackened by dark and blotted clouds that had merged together in a fusion of bleakness and tension. No one wanted to intrude on the moment. No one wanted to be the one to smash open the mass of backed up tension and unleash it on the land, but someone had to and someone did.

"I didn`t think you would come, Potter", Voldermort said, his voice dry and raspy, like sandpaper was lodged in his throat. The Dark Lord had almost whispered the words, but they were carried swiftly across the space between the two rivals to Harry`s ears and it seemed like he had shouted the words, compared the silence before he had spoken.

Harry gave him a rueful smile that didn`t quite make it to his dull emerald eyes, "I wouldn`t have, three weeks ago, but now things are different. Everything has changed".

Voldemort`s smile bordered on the edge of cruel, "Ah, yes, your little mudblood friend. It was a pity, really, that she was what she was but I have to give credit when it`s due, she was a smart witch and, if not for her status, would have made a brilliant addition to my ranks. Though, I could have overlooked the fact that she had such dirty blood, but she was so set in her light ways", The Dark Lord sighed, actually looking regretful, "Such a pity".

Harry`s face had darkened a little. "She was my friend", he said softly, "The only person left in this world that I trusted, that I knew would be by my side no matter what came my way and you killed her, you hurt her, and you will pay with your life or I will die trying".

"So, it all comes down to now, does it?" Voldemort knew the answer to his question, but he wanted to hear the boys answer.

"We both know that it does. It ends today, this rivalry between the both of us. Whether it`s you or me who dies, I don`t really mind, but it ends now. I grow weary of this tiring game", Harry replied, his voice encased with exhaustion.

Voldemort found himself nodding in agreement as he raised his wand, his rival doing the same, but he didn`t say anything when he noticed that the boy hadn`t finished.

"Things could have been different, Tom. In another life, we could have been on the same side, you and I. Could have done such amazing things. But...but not this time, this time, it is too late", Harry said, looking into The Dark Lords eyes to show him the truth of his words.

"It isn`t too late, Potter. Stop fighting, and join me, as I have offered many times before", Voldemort said, taking a slight step forwards.

Harry`s rueful smile returned, full force. "It is. It was too late when Dumbledore placed me with the Dursleys, too late when I went to Hogwarts, too late when you ordered Cedric dead, too late when you killed everyone that I have ever loved".

Voldemort let out a heavy sigh, "I understand. Let us end this and Potter?"

Harry cocked his head to the side in question.

Voldemort gave him the first genuine smile he had ever seen from the Dark Lord, "It really is a crying shame that things didn`t turn out differently".

Harry nodded and readied his wand.

They both stared at each other for a second, but before another silence could settle in, both started firing off spells.

"_Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra! Bombarda_!"Voldemort shouted in rapid succession.

Harry, rather than try to raise a shield, dived to the left, rolled forward into a kneeling position and fired back, "_Reducto! Avada Kedavra!"_

Voldemort raised a solid black shield to block the first spell and then dismissed it before stepping to the right to avoid the second. "An unforgivable? I didn`t know you had in you, Potter".

Harry laughed, "If you could see all the things I`ve learned since Bellatrix killed Sirius, you might just die of shock".

The Dark Lord allowed himself a short smile before he shot off a few cutting curses, which Harry dodged easily, and then another killing curse, which Harry conjured a wall of black ice to deflect. That raised Voldemorts hairless eyebrows.

"Dark magic, Potter? What would Dumbledore think?"

"He`s probably rolling around in his grave right about now, eh?" Harry smiled at the thought before sending three balls of fire the size of basketballs at his foe.

He managed to dodge the first and block the second but the third smashed into his left calf and he hissed in pain. He didn`t have time to heal himself, however, because Harry had sent a cutting curse at his throat and he had to raise a shield to block it.

"Crucio!" Voldemort hissed and the spell flew at Harry at an unbelievable speed and would have hit it`s target, had Harry not been expecting it. But he had been, so he moved out of the way, just in time.

Voldemort quickly healed his leg before throwing another Cruciatus Harrys way.

Harry dodged but before he could counter-attack he was hit by flesh eating curse on his left arm. Harry almost howled with the pain but he settled with hissing out a muffled curse and stopping the acid from progressing to his bone. He didn`t have time to heal to before Voldemort hit him with a cutting curse on the left shoulder and then again on the right leg. Voldemort smiled viciously and shot the killing curse at Harry but, despite the pain it caused him, he rolled out of the way.

Harry got up as quickly as he could, avoiding another flesh eating curse, and fired shards of black ice out of his wand at Voldemort.

The Dark Lord raised a translucent but strong dark shield but the shards just tore through it like a hot knife through butter. Harry heard Voldemort swear before jumping to the side as fast as he could. He managed to avoid most of the shards but a few lodged deeply into his left side, ripping through his thick black robes and spurting ruby red blood all over him.

Before the Dark Lord could do much more that swear, Harry shot another cutting curse at him, which tore through his shoulder.

Voldemort growled in pain and fury but before he could fire the spell that was on the tip of his tongue, a red spell flew from behind him and hit Harry on the arm. The spell cut through his forearm like a blade, slashing into the already existing wound, and Harry`s mouth popped open in surprise.

The both paused their battle and turned to the source of the spell.

Bellatrix LeStrange was standing closer to the battle than any of the others and she had her wand pointed at Harry, her face filled with fury, but when her Lord turned to her, anger on his face, her face blanked and she shrank back.

"Did I not say", his voice as cold as the shards of ice that were making the left half of his body go numb, "to not intervene in this fight, unless I ask of it?"

While Voldemort was talking, Harry quickly took the time to heal his shoulder and forearm, leaving only livid pink scars behind. He left the wound on his leg, as it could be dealt with later and he needed what little energy he had.

Bellatrix bowed her head, "I`m sorry, My Lord". She dropped to her knees and started to crawl towards his feet, "I`m sorry, I`m sorry. I couldn`t bear it when he hurt you, I`m sorry, My Lord".

"Get back" He hissed, "and stay back. I`ll deal with you later".

Bellatrix nodded and slunk back to the others, head hung low.

The Dark lord suddenly frowned and looked down to his side. He waved his hand and the shards melted, leaved messy wounds behind, which he healed sloppily, leaving thin slits of seeping skin behind.

Voldemort turned back around and wasted no time shooting another spell off at Harry, "_Avada Kedavra!"_

Again, Harry dodged. Harry dodged the next few spells, not bothering to put up a shield, which infuriated Voldemort, but he didn`t let it show.

Harry gathered up his energy, as The Dark Lord used up his and when Voldemort paused to catch his breath, Harry acted.

The black shards flew from his _very skin _as he let them go and they roared up above his head into the shape of a Phoenix, it`s giant sharded wings spread out into a wide arc as it let out an explosive battle cry. It _dove _at the Dark Lord, who was staring at the beautiful beast with wide eyes. It took a few seconds before he acted and when he finally did, he only had time to throw up his strongest shield and hope for the best. When the great mass of shards slammed into the shield, the earth shuddered to it`s very core and Voldemort almost lost his footing.

As the Death eaters watched on in awe and fear and Harry took the time to heal his leg, it slammed into the shield _again_ and _again _and _again _until, finanlly, the shield couldn`t take anymore and a large crack sounded as a large tear appeared in it. As the creature reared back to attack again, sensing weakness, Voldemort dropped the shield completely and conjured his own champion. A basilisk made of fiendfire rose from the ground in front of it`s new master and reared back, as if to strike.

Harry had to marvel in it`s beauty as it coiled to attack his shard creature. As it sprung at his Shard Phoenix, Harry ordered his servant to wait untill the last possible moment.

The onlookers gaped as when, instead of being mauled or melted by the Snake of Fire as they expected it to, the Shard Phoenix embraced it`s enemy in it`s wings.

Voldemort stared in confusion as his beast was enveloped.

No one was sure what was happening for a few moments. The Snake of Fire was suspiciously still in the Shard Phoenix` embrace and the Shard Phoenix had made no sounds of pain like they expected. Then, suddenly, the pitch black bird caught fire. Slowly at first, starting from the tips of it`s inky wings and then spreading up, up, up and along it`s massive body. There even seemed to be a flame in each of the magnificent tings eyes.

After a few minutes the Shard Phoenix seemed to realise that it still had it`s prey in it`s grasp and unfurled it`s wings.

The Snake of Fire reared away, as if struck, and when it came into full view, everyone could see that it looked more dull than before, less vibrant. Their eyes turned to the Shard Phoenix, who had spread it`s wings wide again and was now consumed by a fire so bright, that many had to look away.

Voldemort, seeing that his Snake of Fire had failed, dispelled it and it let out a long hiss before winking out of existance.

The Shard Phoenix swept it`s burning gaze onto The Dark Lord and it almost seemed to smile before the fire disappeared and the Shard Phoenix was back to the was it was.

Voldemort had one more idea that he could try so he absorbed as much energy as he could from the already dead ground before he shot off a very dark and very powerful ice spell at the bird.

It scwacked fiercely but was much too big too dodge and the spell smashed into it`s chest and pushed the creature back a few steps. Harry sent more power into his creation to protect it as much as he could from the spell and he could feel the magical exhaustion seeping deep into his body as he did so.

The spell was supposed to encase the thing in a wall of ice so thick, it would take years to naturally thaw it out, no matter how hot the environment was but, instead, the creature was covered in a layer of thin blue ice. But Voldemort noticed that despite how thin the sheet was, the bird could n`t move. It quickly occurred to him that this was because it was made of shards and for the enchantment on the creature to work, it`s whole body had to be able to move freely, to let the shards move together, not separately.

The Dark Lord smirked and shouted, "Bombarda!"

When the spell hit the creature, everyone quickly shot up a shield as the bird exploded outwards into millions of little pieces and shards flew in all directions. Some of shards slipped through his weaker Death Eaters shields and sliced them up a bit but Voldemort paid them no mind when he realized that none of the were seriously injured.

After the last shard had fallen to the ground, the two foes looked at each other , both breathing heavily.

Harry grinned, "You like my new trick?"

Voldemort grudgingly had to agree that he was impressed with the boy. "I have never seen something like it before".

"You wouldn`t have", Harry replied a bit more tiredly as he stepped a bit closer. "I invented the spell myself", Harry paused and shook his head, "that`s a lie. I _adapted _the spell myself".

Voldemort let out a short laugh, "I _really _wish that things could have turned out differenty".

"Yeah", Harry sighed. "Can we get this over with? How about we shoot one spell each, like that night in the graveyard?"

Voldemort nodded, "Fine, but no running off this time".

Harry smiled, "No running off this time".

The both raised their wands and, unlike last time in the graveyard, they said the same spell, "_Avada Kedavra_".

Harry`s blood red light met Voldemorts pale blue in the middle and the connected with a soft thrum. Harry widened his stance to keep his balance and he _pushed_. The little magic he had left in his stores he fused into the spell and shoved as hard as he could. For a moment, the red light pushed forwards by a noticeable amount before the blue shoved him violently back again.

Harry didn`t have enough energy to give anymore but somehow, somehow, he found some. He pulled it from the edges of his soul and the cracks in his heart, from the corners of his mind and the deepest parts of his magical core. And he _pushed_. He pushed with everything that he had and everything that he was. He pushed for all that he had lost. For Remus. For Sirius. For Neville. For the twins and for his parents. For a life he could never life. For the life he wanted. For his soul. For his sanity. And by Merlin he _pushed_.

Suddenly, the magical line crackled with power and the red rushed towards the Dark Lord, who`s red eyes had gone impossibly wide with fear. The blue was obliterated as the red tore along it towards it`s target.

The cracking of Voldemorts wand sounded like a gunshot.

Emerald green eyes met red as Harry`s world exploded in a burst of pure red light.


	2. The Wish Granted

A Phoenix Of Ash.

By FlightFromDeath.

Disclaimer; Obviously, I don`t own the Harry Potter series or any of it`s characters because I`m not filthy rich and I`m not at my villa in Spain, sunbathing on my private beach, I`m in my room, writing this story on a crappy Laptop that`s so slow, I may as well write out the story on paper dozens of times and pass them to everyone I see until everyone has read it or used as toilet paper (depending on whether they like it or not)

A/N; I have no idea when Dudley`s birthday is and, to be honest, I can`t be bothered to look for it. So, instead of an annoying search for a date, I`ll be making one myself. In my story Dudley Dursley was born on the 2nd of June. All I knew was that it was before Harry`s birthday and before Harry`s punishment for the escape of the Boa Constrictor, which he was sent to his cupboard for until the summer holidays, which started round the 31st of June where I`m from, so...That`s that. Or not. I also don`t know which year Harry starts Hogwarts, so since the book was first published in 1997, that`s the year I have chosen for him to start in. Also, please forgive any mistakes and tell me of them, thanks x.

Chapter Two, The Wish Granted.

Harry`s first thought when he woke up was- _where in Merlin's name was he? _ He lay still for a second. Was he in hostile territory? Had he been captured by Death Eaters? What had even happened? The last thing that he remembered was red light blinding him into unconsciousness. Slowly fragments of his memory started to stitch back together, connecting in a tangle of information.

Suddenly, Harry focused on one particular memory: his battle with Voldemort. As he watched the memory in his head, a storm of questions blew through his mind but one screamed the loudest: had he killed Voldemort or had Voldemort killed him?

Harry soon came to the conclusion that, no, he was not dead and, yes, he was sure that Voldemort was not the victor of their battle. Harry could feel that he was laying on a thin mattress, which seemed to be riddled with holes, and he was covered by a thin layer that he assumed to be a blanket. The place he was in was very cold but he could tell that he was inside an enclosed space, tight packed. Funnily enough, even without seeing the place, it felt familiar, like an old friend.

Harry`s head pulsed with pain as he slowly and carefully opened his eyes. Emerald orbs widened as he took in his surroundings. His cupboard. He was in the cupboard that he had grown up in. The fact that he had somehow _gotten_ to his cupboard while unconscious was less of a shock to him than the fact that he was_ in his _cupboard, since it had been destroyed, along with number four Privet Drive a few years back.

As thoughts of confusion whirred through his mind, Harry sat up, ducking his head slightly when the roof almost hit his head. How was this even possible? How could he be _here_ of all places? A place that was long destroyed? For a moment, Harry considered the idea that this was some sort of personal hell that the Death Eaters had conjured up for him as a punishment for killing their master but quickly dismissed it, as they probably would n`t have even let him continue to breathe if he had done so. Was Voldemort even dead anyway? Harry felt it safe to assume so, since Voldemort would n`t have left him alive if he had anything to say about it. But if Voldemort was dead, then why had his Death Eaters not killed him? And most importantly, where was he ?

Harry looked about the space around him. It looked exactly the same as it had before he had been moved into Dudley`s second bedroom; the little broken toy soldiers lined neatly along the shelf across from him that he remembered being extremely fond of when he was younger, the small, lumpy mattress that he currently sat on, right in the farthest corner of the cupboard, the cobwebs that clung to the smallest corners of the roof, down to the bare, splinter infested floorboards and the little piece of paper stuck to the side of the wall on which was scribbled- _Harry`s Room._

Harry frowned and shifted, mindful of the low roof. Suddenly Harry froze. He had barely fit into his cupboard when he was ten, how the hell was he managing it now? Harry looked down at himself and his eyes went wide as he took himself in; he was wearing massive, baggy old brown trousers that he vaguely remembered from somewhere before and he was practically swimming in a large, holey t-shirt. Despite this, he could tell that under the clothes, he was tiny.

Harry`s frown deepened. "What the hell", he whispered. He nearly jumped in surprise when, instead of the deep, hard voice he had grown used to, his words came out embarrassingly high-pitched. Harry`s hand shook as he pulled it to his face to confirm his fears- the hand was tiny compared to what he was used to. Harry could only come up with once sensible but impossible conclusion- he had been de-aged to his ten, eleven year old self and was sitting in his cupboard, which had been miraculously restored from ash.

Harry knew that his conclusion had major flaws and that he had no proof that he was actually alive and not in hell. He knew that it was improbable that someone would take the time to de-age him and create an exact replica of his cupboard to lock him in but it was the only possible reason he could come up with for him to be in the situation he was in. The question was, _who_ had done this? Who would do this instead of just killing him?

Harry though about this for a good few minutes before giving up, he could n`t think of anyone who had the patience, skill and motivation to do this to him. Harry knew that whoever had done this to him, probably had taken his wand from him, but he double checked and confirmed his fears. No wand then. No matter, he thought to himself, he didn`t need one.

Harry cast a soft, wand-less Lumos, careful to put little power in so as to not get himself too hurt if there were anti-magic wards in place. Harry`s heart thrummed as he felt the spell start to work, but it plummeted straight to his stomach when he felt it flicker inside of him and fail. Harry frowned. It had began to work, so there couldn't`t be any anti-magic wards -they would have cut his magic off from him completely, he would n`t have been able to even start the spell, and, of course, even trying a spell would have hurt at least a little.

Harry could feel his magic, even if it felt weaker and more diluted than normal, so why couldn't`t he...unless. Unless, they had put up a ward that allowed him to feel his magic but have no access to it...The only reason that Harry could think of for them to do that would be to tease him with false hope, which was a believably cruel thing for a Death do. But before he got ahead of himself, Harry decided to try again, putting a bit more power into the spell.

This time, a little ball of light appeared above Harry`s out-stretched palm. Inwardly, Harry gave a little cheer of triumph, no wards then. But Harry could n`t help be a little worried- with the amount of power he had put into the spell, the ball should have been bigger. Harry decided to shrug it off for the moment, his magic was probably still tired from his battle with Voldemort. How long ago was that any way? A few hours? Days?

Harry cast a silent _Tempus_. Due to his tiredness, predictably, it failed the first time but, adjusting the power he fed into the spell, the second time, he managed to get it to work. Glowing red numbers popped into the air in front of Harry. When Harry read them, he assumed that he had failed the spell again, as the numbers declaired that it was one O`clock in the morning on the second of June, 1997, so he he tried again. The same result. Harry frowned and tried three more times, getting increasingly tired and frustrated with each one as they all yielded the same result.

Harry thought about his situation for a moment. He was in a place that had been long destroyed, he was in his ten, eleven year old body, his Tempus spells had told him it was a time it was impossible for it to be and, lastly, he should be dead but wasn`t. It was just like him to get himself into a situation like this, Harry thought to himself with a mirthful smile. Harry wasn`t sure what was going on or what he should do.

Finally, he decided to see if there was anyone nearby and if they were hostile, it might clue him in whether he was in serious danger or not. He knew a good few spells that would help him, if he had his wand. As it was, he didn`t, so he had to settle with a simple light spell that told the caster if there were any wizards around and whether they were light or dark.

He got it on his first try, thankfully, but it took a minute to work. How the spell worked was, a small ball of blue light would appear and if there were about the same number of light and dark wizards around, it would turn purple, if the majority of wizards around were light, it would turn red, if the majority of wizards around were dark, it would turn black and if there were only muggles in the area, it would turn a misty grey. The spell wasn`t very good and was very simple, it would n`t tell you how many people were near and didn`t reach farther than the building you were in, but it was all Harry could manage at the moment, without his wand. The spell took it`s time to calculate but finally it showed Harry better results than he had hoped for, it told in that there were only muggles in the building. While the fact that he was in a muggle setting disturbed him slightly, he was glad, because it would be easier to escape muggles than wizards in his tired and de-aged state.

Harry crawled over to the small door and tried to peek out of the little slit that he remembered Uncle Vernon used to shout through, but realized that it was slid firmly closed. Harry scowled, a bit annoyed, but instead, pressed his ear to the door- all he could hear was the slow, loud ticking of a clock. When, after a good ten minutes of listening, he concluded that no one was anywhere near the door to the cupboard, he tried the little handle on the door, praying to gods that he didn`t believe in that it wasn`t locked.

It seemed that luck, or some one`s stupidity, was on his side as it gave no resistance as Harry carefully pushed it open. Harry ducked out of the doorway, peering around cautiously before he dared move further than by the open door. Harry furrowed his brows in confusion as he recognized the hallway that used to sit outside his old cupboard in number four Privet Drive. It had the same flowery wallpaper, the same blue carpet, the same ugly cat clock that hung on the wall opposite that said that it was nearly half past one in the morning and the same pictures of the Dursley`s that sat there seven years ago. Harry was becoming worried. He knew that since no dark wizards were in the area (not including himself) that the Death Eaters had not captured him and knew that no one left on the light side would dare de-age the `great savior Harry Potter` and lock him in a replica of his childhood room. He also knew exactly who knew about the fact that he grew up in a cupboard and all of them were now dead, assuming that Voldemort _had_ died and that he had n`t been gossiping to his followers about Harry. The thought of the great Dark Lord Voldemort gossiping nearly made Harry laugh.

But what was going on?

To be honest, Harry would have preferred to have been captured by Death Eaters and to have woken up in a dungeon, chained to a wall, than waking up here and not having a clue what was going on or who was behind it.

Harry crept along silently until he reached a familiar door which, if he were in a replica of the Dursley`s house, should lead to the living room. Harry slowly opened the door, cringing when it made the slightest of whines. When no one came charging towards his location, Harry peeked into the room. As he suspected, it was exactly the same as it was before. Harry noticed that the striped curtains were drawn closed, so he drifted towards them. He reached out a hand and pulled the fabric the side as gently as he could. Harry had half expected the window to be bricked up. Or for a Death Eater to be standing on the other side of the glass, grinning at him cruelly. But, instead, to his confusion, the window looked normal enough and he could even see out onto the dark street, which looked as boring as it always had.

Harry let the curtain fall back into place and decided he should see if he could get outside. He left the living room as quietly as he had entered, closing the door behind him. Harry knew that the front door would be locked because, even if he had n`t been kidnapped, which he was beginning to think he had n`t been, it was one O`clock in the morning and who ever lived in this house, if anyone even did, would lock their front door at this time of night. Though Harry could have easily disarmed a muggle lock, he remembered how loud that door was to open, so headed for the kitchen to try the back door. Harry wasn`t surprised that the kitchen was the same as well, in fact, he barely noticed as he headed for the back door, making sure no one was in the room when he entered. The back door, Harry soon realized as he tried to open it it, was locked so Harry cast a quick unlocking charm, which worked easily and Harry pulled the door open. He stepped outside and came into contact with no wards that prevented him from leaving. To double check, Harry took a few steps forwards. Nothing happened. Harry bent down and picked up a little stone off of the grass by the stairs. He threw it as hard as he could, which wasn`t very hard in his body`s current state, and it flew through the air undisturbed before it landed with a thud by the shed. So, nothing to stop him leaving. Odd.

The spell earlier had told Harry that there were muggles in the house and since the house was quiet, he guessed that they were upstairs sleeping. He also had the sinking feeling that he knew who was upstairs but he just could n`t believe it until he saw it.

Harry went back inside, closing the door behind him. He decided to leave it unlocked, so that he could escape quickly if the need arose. As silent as death, Harry walked to the bottom of the stairs and when he ascended them, he took care to avoid the steps that he suspected would scream his position if he stood on them.

After making it to the top he let out a silent sigh of relief before creeping along the corridor which, surprise surprise, was the same as he remembered. Harry decided to brave the room that should be Dudley`s second bedroom first, as no one should be inside.

Harry carefully turned the handle and pushed the door open just enough to peer his head around the side. Harry quickly scanned the room, only to find it in the same chaotic mess that it used to be: the room that time forgot, it seemed. Harry could hear a persistent buzzing noise coming from somewhere close, but when he could find a source, he shook his paranoia off and ignored it for the time being. Finding no one occupying the space, Harry pulled himself from the room and softly closed to door, which complied with a faint click that Harry was confident that no one but he had heard.

He moved on to the next room: Dudley`s bedroom. Harry`s heart stuttered for a second when he heard a deep sound vibrating from the room that sounded remarkably like a demented drill on drugs. Since Harry was pretty sure that there wasn`t a demented drill on drugs behind the door, though you never knew with magic, he assumed that there was someone in the room. And based on other suspicions, he felt it rational to guess that he would find Dudley when he entered the room and that the sound he was hearing was his snoring, which Harry remembered from six long years of torture after he had been moved into Dudley`s second bedroom.

Harry took a deep breath and gathered all of his Gryffindor courage, before he opened the door to Dudley`s bedroom and peered around the room. As soon as Harry`s head had entered the room, his ears were assaulted by the sound from outside increased six fold. Harry cringed slightly and cast his eyes towards the bed. There was a mound of _something_ on the bed and Harry could _hear_ the springs that sagged under the weight screaming for relief. To be honest, Harry would be screaming too, if he were them.

But, luckily for Harry, he wasn`t, so he continued his study of the lump on the bed. He knew he could n`t turn on a light to see the person better, or cast a_ Lumos_, so he crept towards the bed. When Harry realized that he still could n`t see the persons face, he rounded the bed to see from the other side.

Harry`s breath caught as the sight of his ten- eleven year old cousins face met his widened eyes. It was_ impossible_. Dudley had moved to America with the rest of the Dursley`s as soon as Harry had announced that he wasn`t coming back. How could he be here, de-aged just like himself...No. The idea that sprung into his mind was swiftly batted away by Harry, at the_ sheer _impossibility of it being the truth.

But... But, as impossible as the idea sounded, it made _sense. _Waking up in his cupboard, which was long gone, being de-aged by an unknown culprit, being alive, despite falling unconscious surrounded by Death Eaters after killing their master, his _Tempus _telling him that it was 1997, finding the house to be exactly as it was when he was ten, finding Dudley de-aged...It made sense but it could n`t be true, could it?

Harry could n`t have been sent back in time.

But what else could have happened? How_ else _could he explain what was going on?

When a particularly loud snort huffed from Dudley`s open mouth interrupted his train of thought, Harry decided that before he got ahead of himself, he should check the last two rooms for things that faulted his idea.

Casting one last look at his cousin, Harry went to leave when he suddenly froze in his tracks. Was he a wizard or not? He turned back to his cousin and raised his hands slightly. How could he have forgotten the first spell he had ever created? His identity spell?

Harry had to admit that he had n`t been very creative with the name of his first creation, but the name suited it well enough. Harry had created it back in sixth year, a spell that could identify any human being, no matter how well thought out their disguise might be, or how many spells they had used to hide their true name. He had shared this spell with only Hermoine, who had been overjoyed with him, and Ron, who had been impressed.

Fortunately for Harry, he had taken the time and effort to learn it wandlessly. Harry took a deep breath and cast his spell. Just like the Tempus spell, words appeared in the air in a soft red glow: _Dudley Dursley, born 02/06/1986, Male, Muggle_.

Harry`s breath caught in his throat and he let out a small gasp that was drowned out by a mighty gurgle from Dudley.

Harry`s thoughts whirred around his head violently as they crashed into each other and multiplied. It _was_ Dudley. This _was_ his cousin. Which meant that if there was anyone else in the house, it _should_ be Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Which meant that he had _not _been kidnapped. Which meant that this place, this house he was in, was _actually_ number four Privet Drive. Which meant that his cupboard _was _back from ashes. Which meant that his Tempus _had _been correct. Which meant that he _had _traveled back in time.

Oh why did things like this always happen to him?

Ok, Harry though to himself, get your shit together, Potter, this is no time to panic. First things first, let`s check and see if Aunt Petuina and Uncle Vernon _are_ here. Good start as any, he thought to himself.

Harry`s mind was a jumbled mess and he tried to clear his thoughts a bit, but it seemed as if he was too magically exhausted to kick start his occlumency shields at the moment. He shook his head, annoyed, but left the room and headed to the master bedroom, where his Aunt and Uncle slept. A quick look around the already open door confirmed to Harry that yes, his Aunt and Uncle were here as well and a quick Identity spell showed that yes, they were his Aunt and Uncle. After the second spell at his Uncle, Harry felt his eyes slowly slip closed and he hurriedly peeled them open again when he noticed. Harry knew he could n`t risk anymore spells tonight and he could feel the exhaustion pulling at him, so he decided to go back to his cupboard to mull things over, instead of risking falling asleep in the upstairs hallway, which he was forbidden to enter unless given express permission.

It took him only a few minutes to silently make it back to his cupboard and squeeze himself back onto the mattress, pulling the door firmly shut behind him.

Harry spent the next hour or so mulling over his situation, wondering about the who`s and why`s of it all but soon, the tiredness pulled him under.

-..-..-..-..-.-.-..-..-..-..-..-.-..-..-.

"Get up!".

Harry`s eyes flew open and twisted at a near impossible speed towards the cupboard door, behind which the screech originated from. It took Harry a good moment to remember where he was but he soon his memory filled him in to the situation and he let out a heavy sigh.

"Now!"

I heard you the first time you nasty old hag, Harry grumbled in his mind. His aunt had the same grating voice, it seemed. Was it too much to ask for her to either have magically lost her voice or for it to sound less like nails down a chalkboard? Harry briefly wondered how long he would have to put up with the Dursleys before he was off to Hogwarts. He hoped it wasn`t too long because if it was, Harry might have to resort to chucking a few curses at them, but, luckily for them, he didn`t have his wand, so the lovely curses he had in mind would be weaker than normal. Darn.

Harry was interrupted from his thoughts by his aunts crisp tone, "Are you up yet?"

"I am now", Harry drawled sarcastically but it seemed as if his aunt had n`t heard him.

"Hurry up, I want you to look after the bacon and if you let it burn there will be hell to pay. Everything _will _be perfect on Duddy`s birthday".

Shit. Harry had forgotten that the second of June was Dudley`s birthday. Harry cast his mind back to see what the first time he had gone through this day looked like. He remembered Dudley having an almost tantrum at the number of gifts that he recieved, being allowed to go to the Zoo with the Dursleys, remembered talking to the Boa constrictor...Harry smirked as he remembered how he had set the snake on his cousin. He could recall the exact expression of terror and confusion on the fat lards chubby face.

"Move!"

Harry rolled his eyes and promised the woman a most painful death before he glanced around the cramped space. The previous night Harry hadn`t bothered to take even his shoes off, so he halted the search for his socks with an embarrassed shake of his head before crawling to the little door.

He blinked at a rapid pace for a few seconds as light torched his eyes before he gave them a swift rub and ambled down the hall after his Aunt, who was already throwing the bacon onto the frying pan.

When he entered the kitchen, Harry barely took note of the massive mound of presents that had swallowed up the headed over to his Aunt, who had motioned for him to take watch over the bacon. Harry complied with no little annoyance at being ordered around. Harry had grown used to being the one issuing orders, of being in charge. Playing nice until it was time to go to Hogwarts was going to be hell but Harry was nothing if not patient. That being said, as he turned over the bacon, he started planning just how horrible he would make his Aunts death.

He was on the third turn when Uncle Vernon strode in, looking even more stupid and fat than Harry remembered.

"Comb that hair, boy!" he barked as he entered. At the abrupt shout, Harry had almost let a curse fly from his hands but he managed to restrain himself with grit teeth. The fat git lowered himself onto his usual seat.

If Harry were the seat, he`d have killed himself.

Dudley chose to grace the family with his presence as Harry put the plates of bacon and egg on the table, which was no easier than last time with the amount of space he had to work with.

"Thirty-six. That`s two less than last year".

The rest of the morning passed pretty much the same way as it had last time, though with a lot more sarcastic and violent thoughts in Harry`s head; with Dudley complaining about his presents, Dudley complaining about Harry having to go with them to the Zoo, Uncle Vernon complaining about motorbikes on the way to the Zoo.

The only thing noticeably different about the day was the snake incident, though it started much the same, with Dudley and Uncle Vernon bothering the Boa Constrictor before getting bored and moving on to another poor snake. Harry had wandered over to the Boa constrictors` enclosure and had a quick conversation with it, internally debating whether or not he should take it with him before deciding against it, and had set it free with a bit of wandless magic. The rest of the day followed the last timeline. The snake had slithered by Dudley and Piers (both would later swear that it tried to kill them) and had slid away outside somewhere, sending the muggles screaming in all directions, which Harry found amusing to watch.

Uncle Vernon had found it less amusing, Harry found out later when he was thrown into his cupboard and given the same punishment as last time. Harry could admit that this time, it _was_ actually _his_ fault, not that he was going lay down and take being nearly starved for the next weeks.

For the next month, Harry decided to play nice-ish. When the Dursely`s were asleep, he would break out of his little prison and steal some food and bottled water, careful to steal food that would n`t be missed, and when he was laying in his cupboard for hours at a time during the daylight hours, other than when he was allowed out for the toilet, he practiced his wandless magic. He soon learned that he needed to put a little more power into his spells, since his core had used up a lot of magic sending him into the past and was slowly but surely recovering and would be back to normal by the time he was back at Hogwarts. Hopefully. Harry also spent time working on his occlumency shields, slowly powering them back up piece by piece, since it would be disastrous if he were to simply shove them back up. It would have been easy enough, but it would have fractured his shields permanently and Harry would rather wait for good, reliable shields than risk shredding them without good cause.

Three weeks into his punishment, Harry decided to check and see if he still had his Animagus form- a Red Kite. He waited until everyone was asleep before he liberated himself from his cupboard and snuck out to the bottom of the back garden, where the shed hid him from view of the house. If any of the Dursleys saw him, he was screwed.

Before, in his original time, he could change into his Red Kite form and back again quicker than it took him to blink his eyes, but on his first try now, it came apparent very quickly that it would take him a good while of practice to get back to being that fast. That wasn`t to say that he had n`t managed the change, because after the third try he had been successful, but it had taken a good five minutes to complete the change.

Harry also noticed, on the forth night of sneaking out and practicing his animal form in the back garden, that his form had n`t changed at all. Harry had though that his avian, since his current body was back to being at an immature stage, would revert back to it`s Juvenile form, as it had been before Harry had reached his magical maturity but he was still fully matured. Harry guessed after little thought that the form was what it had been before because his soul and magic was still mature, even if his body had n`t gotten the memo yet.

He was glad that it had stayed the same, he still had his long, elegant wings that spread out on either side of him in a symmetrical arc of black, white and reddish-brown, which was followed by a trail of soft feathers that lead into a long forked tail of the deepest black that twisted in graceful motions as he changed direction during flight. Most of his animal forms body, upper tail and wings was a beautiful auburn that he fondly remembered to glow under the sunlight when he used to soar among the clouds.

One of the great loves of Harry`s life, the both of them, was flying. Soaring, gliding and floating. He loved the feeling of the wind against his feathers. Loved the rush of freedom and the sense of peace that washed over him as he flew. He had adored flying on a broom, had embraced the trill, but the feeling of flying on a broom was nothing, _nothing_, compared to flying with his own two wings. Nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of it and after his first time, he had fallen completely in love with his animal form. It was one of the few good things that Harry had left.

Harry's punishment soon ended and he was set back to work immediately "since he had been lazing about the past month". Harry flung himself into his chores and his practicing and he tried to be as patient as he could as July 31st crept closer. Harry could n`t help but count down the days that lead to his birthday, when his letter would arrive, and this time, he swore that he would n`t let his Uncle take it from him.

Nine days became seven, seven soon became four, four soon became one and, suddenly, it was July 31st and Harry was fetching the post after Dudley had poked him with his Smeltings stick.

This time around, Harry had the common sense to hide the letter, though he didn`t really need it since he knew it`s contents off by heart, and waited until he was safely in his cupboard before carefully peeling it open and studying the parchment for the next few hours, a wistful look on his face.

By the next morning he had written a reply on the inside of the envelope with a pen he stole `hem hem` _liberated_ from The Room That Time Forgot. He had waited until he was sent out to weed the front garden before he approached the dusty brown owl that had been sat on the Privet Drive sign across the street watching the house all day and gave it his reply. The old bird had let out a moody huffing sound as if to say "finally" before it flew off. Harry briefly wondered if he could just fly off but soon dismissed the idea before starting on the weeding.


	3. The Ally Of Diagon

A Phoenix Of Ash.

By FlightFromDeath.

Disclaimer; If I owned Harry Potter do you really think that I`d be sat here writing fanfiction instead of working on my next best seller?

A/N; Some of you may be wondering how Harry was sent back in time and I can tell you that it is nothing that hasn`t happened before in other fanfictions, it`s a well used idea and for that I am sorry. Harry won`t know why it happened for sure for a good while but soon enough, he has a good guess at it. Please don`t get you`re hopes up, expecting some amazing and original reason for Harry being sent back in time, because I have used a well used excuse for the time-travel. Sorry.

Also, I apologize if I get any details wrong regarding Gringotts. I don`t know the procedures of the bank when someone doesn`t have their key...so, sorry. Again.

I have made up the name of the trunk shop...I have no clue if one exists in Harry Potter and if it does, I can`t find mention of it.

Chapter Three, The Alley Of Diagon.

This time around, since Harry had replied to his school letter, Hagrid didn`t show up, umbrella/wand blazing, which caused Harry to feel no little amount of disappointment at having to wait to see the friendly man. Harry knew that the half-giant was firmly Dumbledore`s man but Harry couldn`t find it in himself to blame Hagrid for that, since the groundskeeper was still so very grateful to the old man for allowing him to stay at Hogwarts, despite the nasty mess with the Chamber Of Secrets.

It wasn`t as if Harry hated Dumbledore, because, all manipulations aside, the man did mean well, even if he needed to keep his crooked noise out of other peoples business and get his head out of his ass. Harry found Dumbledore`s habit of interfering where he wasn`t required and making decisions that he had no business making distasteful, annoying and infuriating, especially since he had made a bad habit of meddling with Harry`s life, which Harry wouldn`t put up with the this time around.

Harry`s lips quirked into a half smile when he thought of the look the old mans face would make when he saw how his `chosen one` had turned out. Dumbledore had probably been satisfied when he had seen Harry for the first time in his old life- he had looked so much like his father, the Gryffindor poster boy, the first time; with his mop of wild raven hair that seemed to defy gravity on a daily basis, his round metal glasses that muffled his emerald orbs and the short, wirey frame that was constantly held in a humble, hunched way, that screamed naivety. This time though, the old man would be seeing a completely different Harry- This time around Harry had a way to sneak out of his cupboard to steal more food without getting caught, which meant that he was much less skinny than he had been last time, though still not the proper weight someone his physical age should be. He still wore his worn round glasses, as he wouldn`t be able to brew the sight restorative potion until he was at Hogwarts, but he had swiftly fixed them up a bit with a quick _reparo_, which quickly erased the many scratches that marred the lenses and sealed the snapped leg that had previously been sellotaped back on to it`s original place, making the glasses look quite new. His hair, while still as dark as Voldemort's soul, was much less wild and lay in soft waves that almost reached his chin, thanks to a few handy spells that Hermoine had shown him in his previous life when she had finally had enough of having to cut his hair whilst on the run.

The Dursley`s, while stupid and closed minded, had begun to notice the changes in him since he had hijacked his younger self's body but not so much in his physical features, which really weren`t all that noticeable, aside from the hair, but the way he acted. He was much more confident than the other Harry, he walked with purpose and ease, unlike the other Harry who had shuffled about, trying to make himself as small as he could as to not be noticed. This new Harry scared them, when they saw the intelligent and knowing look in his tired emerald eyes.

And Harry_ was _tired. He had been distracted in the past weeks, getting used to being back in the past and mulling over his options but now, with time to properly think, his past life had swept back over him in a wave of grief. Harry pushed as much of the negative feeling behind the walls in his mind as he could preyed that the pain would lessen sometime soon. At night he would quickly eat, spent an hour on his animagus form and then retreat back to his cupboard to mull over his memories in the form of his nightmares. He put up silencing charms so the Dursley`s would n`t hear his howls of grief in the middle of the night. In his old time, there were few that held Harry`s trust and respect and most of them were dead or broken much worse than he was. But Harry could change that.

This time, he would save all of those he cared about and protect them until his dying breath. Those few people from his previous life who knew about his view on magic and accepted him for the Dark wizard that he was would be granted his protection and all others could burn for all he cared. The wizarding world were a fickle people- turning their backs on each other sooner than trusting someone who didn`t share their views. Harry held no love for the people of the wizarding world- how many times had they turned their back on him? Spreading vicious lies and calling him crazy when he claimed that the Dark Lord had returned. They were so easily corrupted, so easy to swap their loyalties- in fact- the most loyal Harry had ever seen a wizard was Voldemort's followers to him, even though most were loyal out of fear it was still amazing.

This time around, Harry had no intention of fighting against Voldemort but wasn`t sure if he wanted to join his cause or not. While Harry called himself a Dark Wizard, he was more grey than anything else. He believed that magic was magic and as long as a spell got the required job done, why worry if it is classified as `Dark` or `Light`? It was the intend that counted, not the type of spell. Harry had found in his sixth year that the `Dark` spells that he practiced came just as easily to him as the `light` ones, so he could perform both at equal strength with practice, which was fascinating to Harry, as before, he had thought that you could only have an affinity for one or the other- that you were either Dark or Light. Though Harry suspected that the Ministry would class him as Dark.

Anyway, it wasn`t the fact that the Dark Lord`s forces was made up of Dark wizards and Witches that bothered him, it was they fact that he was willing to spill magical blood in the form of Muggleborns. Harry could almost see his point- the man had experienced how nasty muggles could be when faced with something different, Harry could attest to that, and feared their reaction if the wizarding world was ever revealed to the muggles. By allowing muggleborns into our community we were risking exposure as more muggles were told of our world. Also, with the arrival of dozens of new muggle raised children entering Hogwarts every year, they bring their closed minds with them. They don`t even try to understand some of the ancient Wizarding traditions and sully traditional Wizarding holidays with their own muggle ones. They completely ignore the old wizarding customs and, as more and more join the wizarding world, less and less wizards know the original traditions while the muggleborns complain at how unfair and wrong our traditions are. But. On the other-hand, while all wizards are given the opportunity to learn of the muggle world in muggle studies at Hogwarts, there is no class from muggleborns to learn of Wizarding traditions and such. So really, it`s not entirely their fault, though they could have researched it themselves...Although Harry wouldn`t really complain in that regard as he himself had been raised in the muggle world and he had made no effort to learn much about the proper traditions and all that. Harry would have liked for there have been a class to update him on the wizarding world to catch him up with the wizard raised children.

As for the pureblood propaganda stuff...Well, Harry could understand how Purebloods would prefer to only marry other purebloods and he could respect that...as long as they weren`t marrying someone who could be found on the same family tree as them but what Harry thought that the purebloods didn`t seem to realize was that in fifty years or so, they would have no one left to marry without resorting to cousins or siblings like the Gaunts did. Harry didn`t see how they couldn`t realize that they needed muggleborns to stop the inbreeding. If not marrying muggleborns, then waiting until the muggleborns married each other, or half`bloods, then in a few generations time their family would become newly recognized pureblood line, which meant more purebloods for each other to marry, which would cut down inbreeding and let fresh blood enter into the ancient lines, to filter it out a bit and bring more power to their blood. Harry thought it was quite simple, though he realized that it was probably a lot more complicated than he had made it out to sound but ignored that tiny fact.

And as for muggles being a threat? Harry completely agreed but felt that the best course of action was not to kill them all of enslave then or whatever, but to strengthen our wards and find ways to keep them completely in the dark about our world. To find a way to hide from them so completely...

Anyway, Harry wasn`t entirely sure what Voldemort's intentions were regarding certain affairs and most of what he _had _heard was second hand, so he didn`t know if the information he did have was true or not, and if Harry didn`t like what he found out, he didn`t know if Voldemort would be open to suggestions. It amused Harry when he got a mental picture of Voldemort standing in front of a black board, chalk in hand, asking his Death Eaters, who were sitting on plush red cushions in a semi-circle, what they thought of his latest dastardly plot.

Harry supposed that he could ask Voldemort a few questions the next time he saw him and go from there.

-..-..-..-..-.-.-..-..-..-..-..-.-..-..-.

Harry waited until a week before he was due to go to Hogwarts before he decided to get his school things at Diagon Ally...but first he had to tell the Dursley`s, which was why he found himself standing in front of a red faced Uncle Vernon and a deathly pale Aunt Petunia.

"W-what?" His uncle managed to stutter out as his face rapidly turned from red to a worrying shade of purple.

"I said", Harry said in a bored tone, "that I will be back before dinner time at the latest".

"I heard that part _boy_!" The man practically hissed back and Harry was slightly impressed to note that he had almost managed to speak parseltongue. "What. Was. That. About. The. Letter".

"Oh, you mean my Hogwarts letter?" Harry answered in the same flat tone.

Harry took pleasure in the little whimper that escaped his Aunts lips at the mention of Hogwarts and watched in an almost fascinated manor as Vernon`s left eye twitched violently.

"Now you_ listen _to _me_ boy, you will not be going to that _freak_ school! I forbid it! When we took your ungrateful self in we swore that we`d stamp that nonsense out of-"

Petunia had been nodding along in agreement of her husband but she flinched back when Harry snarled in a nasty way, fed up the conversation, "_Enough_!"

Vernon paused for a long minute before his face twisted into an ugly expression that jiggled about the folds of fat that lay limp beneath his chin and he roared, "BOY! HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME WITH SUCH DISRESPECT! I SHOULD HAVE GONE AGAINST PETUNIAS WISHES AND JUST DROWNED YOU AS A BABY INSTEAD OF TAKING YOU IN-"

Suddenly Vernon`s lovely rant cut off rather abruptly and his eyes widened as he choked seemingly on thin air.

Petunia was at his side in a second, "Vernon!"

Harry blinked at his uncle innocently, "Are you ok Uncle Vernon? Shall I call for help?"

The man turned his wide watery blue eyes from his panicking wife and narrowed them on his nephew, who was trying his best and failing to look as innocent as he could.

"You!" Vernon tried to scream in what Harry assumed to be his favorite roaring voice but it came out as an odd rasping sound, as the air needed for a task such as screaming at a nephew wasn`t available at the current time. Instead, he raised a pudgy finger and stabbed it accusingly in Harry`s direction, as if that would help him some how.

Petunia was fluttering around her distressed husband as he made wild gestures with his hands. He fell heavily to his knees and he weakly clawed at his throat, whilst Petunia started screeching in that god awful voice of hers.

When Vernon's face reached a pretty shade of blue that Harry was sure he had never seen before and he looked about ready to collapse, Harry released his uncle and he fell gasping to the ground, heaving in erratic breaths as Petunia hovered over him, wailing.

All through this, Harry had a soft smile of amusement on his lips.

As Petunia helped her husband unsteadily to his feet Harry rocked back on his heels and smiled plesantly, as if the whole thing had `t happened.

"Well, I`ll be off then. I`ll be back soon, don`t wait up!" Harry inwardly smirked when, as he passed his Uncle on the way to the door, the man flinched away from him.

-..-..-..-..-.-.-..-..-..-..-.-.-.-..-..-.

Harry had taken the knight bus to the leaky Cauldron where, thankfully, he wasn`t recognized and he was able to convince Tom, the bartender, to let him into Diagon Alley, which Harry couldn`t do yet on his own without a wand. Harry thanked the man with what he hoped was a charming smile instead of the painful grimace that he tried to hide at the sight of the man who had died in the previous timeline to save his life and headed to Gringotts.

As Harry passed the first set of doors, he gave a respectful sort of half nod to the goblin manning them, who bowed in return, and preceded to the second set. Harry couldn`t hold back his vicious smile at the words that were engraved on the doors that warned theifs away, as he remembered from the trip down the Lestrange vault how tight the security was. He had to tip his invisible hat to Voldemort, for having broke in to try and steal the stone at the beginning of Harry`s first year despite all the security measures in place.

Harry entered the bank, which was as beautiful as he remembered it to be, found the closest free goblin and approached. The little creature didn`t look up from his ledger as Harry stood in front of his desk.

Harry, being used to goblin behavior and knowing not to take being ignored personally, simply waited patiently for the goblin to give him his attention. It took a few minutes of him standing silently waiting before the goblin raised his wrinkled, weathered face to peer down at Harry.

"State your business".

"I`d like to visit my vault, please", Harry said, adopting the same dry tone as the goblin, which Harry would later swear made the creatures left eye twitch slightly in irritation.

"Name?"

"Harry Potter".

"You have your key?" He inquired, annoyance coloring his gravelly voice.

"No, it was never given to me". Harry had been ticked off when he had realized that Dumbledore still had the key to his trust vault and hadn`t bothered to send it to him, now that he needed it.

The goblin sniffed and muttered something under his breath. He pulled open a drawer and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill that Harry recognized to be a blood quill. He almost groaned out loud, oh Merlin did he hate those things.

The goblin pushed both towards him. "Write your full name. The writing will turn blue if you are not who you say you are".

Harry sighed and picked up the quill, fiddling with it for a few seconds before writing out on the parchment, in his chicken scratch scrawl that hadn`t improved over the years, _Harry James Potter_. He winced slightly at the soft burning centered at the back of his hand but brushed it off as soon as he could.

Harry and the goblin stared at the parchment for a minute. When the goblin was satisfied that he was indeed Harry Potter, he picked up a small device that looked remarkably like Dumbledore's Put-outer, but when the goblin, whose name Harry still didn`t know, flicked it open, it didn`t seem to do anything. The goblin tipped it upside down onto the parchment and a trickle of thick, golden liquid started to leak from it`s end and onto the paper.

After a few seconds the goblin flicked the device shut and the trickle was shut off. Harry watched, fascinated, as the oozing liquid on the parchment began to clump together and change shape. It took a few minutes, but eventually, the clumps smoothed out into he shape of a golden key. The goblin picked it up and examined it for a minute before handing it too Harry, who noticed that it was still warm.

"I will have someone take you down to your vault. Griphook!" Harry started slightly as the goblin barked out Griphooks name.

Harry grinned at the sight of Griphook, who looked to be the same grumpy goblin he had always been, and his lips only widened when he noticed the unsettled look the little goblin was shooting him.

Harry followed Griphook through a door that lead to some stairs, the same way that Harry had come the last time. The cart ride went by pretty much the same as last time, with Harry peering around to see as much as he could, despite their surroundings mostly just being rock, and they followed the same confusing, twisting path. When they reached his vault, he quickly took what he needed and they were off again, back to the surface. Harry thanked Griphook, who looked a little taken aback, before he left the building, pouch of galleons hidden under his baggy clothes.

At the reminder of his abysmal clothing, Harry decided that, just like last time, he should go to _Madam Malkin`s_ first, to get new robes.

Thankfully, this time Malfoy wasn`t there and the shop was nearly empty.

"Hogwarts, dear?" Madam Malkin was suddenly beside him and Harry nearly swore.

Harry nodded, "Yes, I`ll be needing the required clothing for Hogwarts, as best quality as you can make them, within Hogwarts` rules for uniform, of course. I`ll also require some every day robes as well, along with several pairs of trousers, shirts, shoes...maybe a winter jacket? All in blacks, dark greens and blues".

Madam Malkin quickly ushered him to a footstool, nodding along to his words, and when he had stopped talking she quickly set to work.

Harry decided to go to _Henninds Helpful Trunks _so that he could store his things as he shopped, instead of having to go back for them or heave them about like an idiot. It took half and hour, 250 Galleons and a very helpful shop keeper but finally Harry settled on a dark blue trunk that held a decent sized library room that included a desk and chair along with a never ending bookshelf that could hold up to a thousand books (why was it called never ending when it had a limit?) , a dueling room that worked very similarly to the room of requirement but with much more limits, a wardrobe compartment to store his clothes and one that simply held a wooden storage box for his potion ingredients. It also had two compartments that were the same size as the inside of the trunk should be, a secret compartment that was as secure as fort Knox to hide anything he didn`t want found and one last compartment, to store things that he would need quick access to, like parchment, quills, ink and the like. He paid an extra 35 Galleons to have a blood recognition lock put on it, which Harry thought to be a worthy investment.

Next, Harry went to the apothecary`s to get his potions ingredients and then after, a few bit`s and bobs that he would need, such as scales, chopping knives and a cauldron. Harry smiled fondly as he remembered that first Diagon Ally trip where he had wanted a solid gold cauldron and Hagrid had talked him out of it.

Next, Harry tackled Flourish and Blotts where he spent the better part of two hours dumping every book that looked interesting into his trolley and nearly clearing out the shop (or so the shop keeper jokingly told him). It had taken the shop keeper a good twenty minutes to transfer the hundreds of books into the Library of Harry`s trunk, but, despite acting grumpy at the work that it took, looked happily smug that he made such a big sale on his shift. Knowing that he wouldn`t need his trunk for anything else, he had the shop keeper shrink it for him and he put it in his pocket, for later.

As he entered Ollivanders Harry found himself wondering if he would be getting his faithful Holly wand again or if he would be receiving a new one. While Harry held hope that his old wand was waiting on him, he just knew that he had changed too much for it to have remained compatible to him. Harry`s original Holly wand had been snapped by Bellatrix before Voldemort had killed him in the clearing at the battle of Hogwarts, unfortunately, so he had been using Draco`s, which hadn`t been a very good match, until he had won the elder wand from Voldemort in their duel a little bit later on. While the elder wand had been a perfect match for him, it wasn`t available to him in this world, because Dumbledore had it and Harry couldn`t see the old man parting with it anytime soon.

So it was with a heavy heart that Harry peered around the dusty old store, his eyes meeting stacks upon stacks of wands, sad to know that the wand he had longed for since he lost it was lost amongst them all, a diamond in a haystack.

Harry was distracted from his musing when he saw movement in the corner of the room and smiled softly when he remembered how startled he had been when Ollivander had jumped out at him the last time.

"Good afternoon".

Though he had been expecting the voice, Harry startled slightly when it spoke up from across the room. Harry quickly brushed it off and gave the man a small smile, "Afternoon, sir".

"I knew I`d see you here soon, Harry Potter. You have your mother`s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten a-"

"Yes, yes", Harry interrupted, having heard this all before and finding little patience for it now, "If you could procede in aiding me to find a wand?..."

Ollivander`s face fell for a second, like the wind had been torn from his sails, before he pulled a smile onto his face and nodded, "Yes, best get on with it, I suppose".

"Which is your wand arm?" The old man pulled his infamous tape measure out of his robe pocket as he spoke.

"My right, sir" Harry held the arm up for him.

Ollivander repeated the same process as last time, the measuring as odd as he remembered, and the process was accompanied with the same speech as well. Thankfully he was finished soon. "-will never get such good results with another wizards wand". Ollivander set the tape measure aside and handed him a wand seemingly out of nowhere. "Try this one, Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches, nice and flexible. Just give it a wave".

As predicted, as soon as Harry made to move, the wand was snatched right away. "No, no. This one maybe? Maple and Phoenix feather. Seven inches, a bit whippy".

And so begun one of the longest half hours of Harry`s life and, like last time, Ollivander seemed to grow happier with every new discarded wand.

He snatched the newest away from Harry`s pale fingers. "Alas not but never fear! I have just the one...now where did I put it now?" And with that, Ollivander disappeared into the tall stacks of wands, out of Harry`s sight but not out of earshot, as Harry could hear him muttering under his breath. "Now where did it go?..."

Harry eyed the pile of wands that he had tried so far...none had been his old Holly, so maybe...

"Ah, found it!" Ollivander returned with a smile. He handed over a deep red wand that had slight indentations in the wood that curved around it`s handle.

As Harry curled him fingers around the wand, warmth rocketed through his arm and into his shoulder, singing to his magical blood. Harry couldn`t help the grin that escaped onto his lips. Perfect.

"Alder, eleven inches, two cores were needed to handle a volatile wood such as Alder. This wand has Dragon heartstring and phoenix feather cores. This was one of my more...experimental works, but it will service you just fine, I think. It`s curious, really, that you were destined for this wand, as I thought that you would very much suit a wand that I sold just recently. Holly and phoenix feather...but I gave it to a young man who looked to be not long out of Hogwarts, I`d say...what was his name again...ah, never mind, where was I? Ah yes, That`ll be seven galleons".

Harry had froze at the mention of his old wand but quickly shook it off, realizing that he had come for his wand later this time, so it was only natural that someone could have found it before him. Harry thanked Ollivender, giving him seven galleons for his wand, and left for his last stop._ Eeylops Owl Emporium_.

As was the case with his old wand, Hadwig had already been sold, which hurt Harry more than the loss of his wand. Hedwig had been his first friend, the very first living thing other than himself that he had ever trusted and she had given her life to try and protect him the night that Harry was moved to the burrow, summer after his sixth year. He had longed to see her again but he knew that it was probably for the best...this wasn`t _his_ Hedwig, after all.

But Harry still found himself desiring some company, a silent confident, so he picked out a male, light brown barn owl and called it Arch. He was a grumpy looking thing, giving the owl equivalent of a sigh more often than not, but he acted pleasant enough towards Harry, and Harry supposed that he would be quite grumpy to, had he been locked in a tiny cage all day.

It was closing in on four O`clock in the afternoon when Harry made the trip `home`. He took the night bus back to the Dursley`s, and when he finally got off the retched thing, having had spent the whole ride with Arch screeching protests in his ear, he made a mental note to never take the bird with him on the bus again, if he wanted to keep his hearing in tact.

When he reached number four Privet drive, Uncle Vernon`s car was in the driveway, so Harry felt it safe to assume that he was back from work...or that he had never went. Harry would have been surprised if he had bothered to go, since he probably had a thick collar of dark bruises around his throat from this morning, which would be hard to explain...unless, of course, he told everyone that his `disturbed` nephew had attacked him viciously. Which he kind of had...Harry snickered to himself at that thought before he entered the house.

"I`m hooome", he practically sang as he pushed the door open. It banged violently against the wall and swung back to slam shut as Harry strode to the living room, a bounce in his step.

His Uncle was parked on the sofa and had been watching the TV but now, he had twisted in his seat to peer warily at Harry with no small amount of fear in his beady eyes. Petunia, at the sound of his arrival, had quickly emerged from the kitchen.

"Did you miss me?" Harry said in the same, annoyingly cheerful tone, happy to note that his Uncle did, indeed, have a circle of bruises around his thick throat.

Vernon`s eye twitched but he didn`t say anything about Harry`s tone. Instead, he exchanged a meaningful glance with his wife before he began to speak. "We have decided that you`ve gotten too big for your cupboard. We have graciously made room for you in Dudley`s second bedroom, so you can move your things up there", his Uncle announced.

About time, Harry drawled in his head as he rolled his eyes. It was lucky for them that they had given him the room now...any later and they would have had to be...persuaded to give him it. Harry grinned nastily at that though, smug at the fearful looks that his Aunt and Uncle were shooting him at the vicious look on his face.

Harry nodded to the couple, ignoring their relieved looks, though they were amusing, before he headed upstairs, since there wasn`t anything he needed from his cupboard, but he halted abruptly at the bottom step and half turned. Harry thought that he would prove to himself that he still had his manners, so he give them a happy smile. "Thank you", he said, before disappearing upstairs.


End file.
